


The Great Search

by JestaAriadne (still_intrepid)



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: ALMOST EVERYONE IS IN THIS, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Ensemble Cast, Gen, Humor, author insert, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-11
Updated: 2002-04-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_intrepid/pseuds/JestaAriadne
Summary: The Author has lost her Muse, and this being 2002 it is just about within the bounds of social acceptability to demand of the cast of characters to search for it for her.Just an excuse for a lot of fun silly character stuff and fourth-wall-breaking :)





	The Great Search

**Author's Note:**

> This was so crackfed that I didn't even post it anywhere back in 2002... Or actually what happened was I wrote some of it, lost the floppy disk I wrote it on, found it again in 2008 and wrote the last couple of sentences. What a convoluted story of a story about an author who's lost her Muse!

“Alright everyone!” yelled Munkustrap, assuming the air of desperate command he usually reserved for performances of  ‘The Pekes and the Pollicles’.  “Listen up!” he frowned slightly at his own use of such colloquialism, but continued anyway, “We have to form search parties and-”

“Why?” drawled a bored sounding voice.

Munkustrap turned and glared at the cat lounging against the old Ford.  “Because, Tugger,” he said tightly, “We have to _find_ something.  That is the usual purpose of a search, yes?  Or is it that - that Grizabella just phoned from the Ritz to ask us all over for tea???”

“Sarcasm noted, big boy,” said Tugger smoothly.

Munkustrap fumed.  “And I was about to ask you to organize one of the parties, brother-of-mine.”

“Pray tell, _dear_ sibling,” Tugger smirked as he saw Munkustrap’s ears flatten in annoyance, “what possible interest do you think I have organizing search parties at this present time?”

“I don’t _care_ if you _interested_ in it or not, you haven’t got any choice!”  Most of the junkyard cats had assembled by now and were bearing witness to this not-so-unusual display of sibling rivalry.

Jennyanydots laid a calming paw on Munkustrap’s shoulder.  “Munk, dear, just ignore him and tell us about your little treasure hunt.”

“It’s not quite a treasure hunt, Jenny,” said Munkustrap, forcing a smile, “It’s just that JestaAriadne has lost her Muse and wants us to help her look for it.”

“JestaAriadne?” chorused several of the kittens.

“Is she even a Jellicle?” asked Victoria.

“Is she even a _cat_?” asked Electra. 

“Erm- you see, this is where it all gets a little awkward.  Although she’s actually just some dumb teenage girl, she’s lost her Muse and therefore can’t write any good stories about us.  All she can do is short silly pieces about unrealistic events.”

“And…?” prompted everyone else; most of them genuinely confused, one certain curious cat distinctly patronizing.

“And, well, since she’s lost her Muse, she can’t think up a reasonable reason why we should help her.”

“Oo-K…” said everyone slowly.

“So!” exclaimed Munkustrap, “Let’s get going!  Now, Skimble, you take one team and search the neighbourhood to the north of the junkyard, my team’ll take the junkyard itself, Cass: you take a couple cats to look east towards the vicarage - ask Old Deut if he’s seen anything while you’re at it-, that leaves west around the Russell… um, George, you can take that, and south…” He let his gaze wander casually towards Tugger.  The effect was totally lost on the leopard cat however; he was rather preoccupied with his own reflection in a shard of mirror.

“ _Tugger_ ,” began Munkustrap, grinning a little too broadly, “how about _you_ go take a party southwards?”

“Nuh uh!” said Tugger emphatically, eyes snapping away from the glass, “Not on your life, Monkey.”

“Mon-Ye-wha?!!” Munkustrap exploded at the name, then calmed down as he asked softly, “What’s wrong with south, Tug?  Tottenham Court’s down that way, I’d have thought you’d love it there!”

“Nice try, Strappy, but aren’t we forgetting a certain Napoleon of Crime who just happens to have his headquarters down there?”

“Oh no,” said Demeter, smiling pleasantly, “I’m sure Munk didn’t forget that at all!  In fact, I’m sure he saw you were the perfect cat for the job simply _because_ of that!” She strolled forward and winked at Munkustrap,  “You’re _so_ brave, after all…”

“Not to mention _handsome!_ ” sighed Etcetera, rubbing her head comfortably on Tugger’s side.  “We’ll come with you, Rum Tummy, won’t we, girls?”

Tugger balked slightly at “Rum Tummy”, but regained some semblance of cool as Victoria, Electra and Jemima all nodded enthusiastically and rushed towards him.

“We’re not scared of Macavity,” said Jemima happily, sounding strangely almost as if she was barely holding in laughter, “Not with _you_ around, Tugsy!”

_Er, who???_

“So, Tugger,” said Munkustrap, grinning ominously, “I think you’ve got your team.  Everyone else just about ready?  We’ll search till sunset and then meet up back here.  If anyone finds the Muse, bring it back and have Tant or Cori contact the rest of us.  You two stay here with Jenny in case something happens, OK?” 

The twins nodded and walked off towards their pipe.  “I wish them luck,” Tantomile murmured as they went.  She glanced back.  “Especially Tugger!”

Tugger was facing a major dilemma.  On the one hand, he really had been planning on sunbathing this afternoon, and did not want his plans to be ruined by some stupid Muse-hunt, especially one going so dangerously near Macavity.  On the other, the fan club were right there, and he hated to disappoint his public...

Cassandra, George and Skimbleshanks’ teams had all left by now, leaving Munkustrap with his group of Demeter, Admetus and Bombalurina, and Jemima, Electra, Victoria and Etcetera all facing Tugger expectantly. 

“We’ll see you later then, Tugger?” asked Munkustrap politely.

Tugger looked around at the kitten’s glowing faces.  _I’m gonna kill you for this one, Monkey’s-jock-strap..._ he thought, and glowered at his brother.

“Unless... if you’d _really_ rather sit here and top up your tan all day... I suppose we could get Rumpus Cat to take these kits Muse-hunting instead.”

Rum Tum Tugger’s ears perked up.  Now there was an idea!  Surely there was no possible serious competition from _that_ freak, was there?

He had just started to speak, however: “I suppose Rumpus-” when Electra squealed very enthusiastically: “Oh, Rumpus Cat!  He’s so coool!”

“Yeah!” agreed the other kittens.

_Everlasting Cat, is there some sort of conspiracy going on?_ he thought, vowing eternal revenge on Munkustrap who had to be the perpetrator of all his troubles.  Aloud he said, “No, Munkustrap, don’t worry about that. I’m... sure I can manage this fine.” Smooth.  Suave.  He nodded to himself.  Munkustrap didn’t have to know how much he’d gotten to the egotistical cat.

“Yey!!” shrilled the young queens, flocking eagerly to Rum Tum again. 

 “We love you, Tumsy!”

_TUMSY?_

_*****_

“ _Munkustrap_ ,” sighed Bombalurina, yawning widely.  “ _What_ is the point in having a _map_ if we don’t even know where we’re going?”

Admetus chuckled. “Leave ‘im be, Bomb,” he said, “He just likes it is all.  Makes him feel kinda- in control.”

“Yeah, he’s a control freak, alright!”  Bomba giggled. 

“I heard that!” Munkustrap’s head shot up from the map for a second. 

“What?” asked Bomba, all innocence, “Heard what?  Oh _that!_ That, erm, that was Demeter!”

“What?”

“We didn’t like to tell you but... OW!  Cut it out Dem!” 

Demeter grimly retracted her claws and smirked at her sister. 

Munkustrap shook his head with an air of sickening loftiness and sophistication.  Bombalurina glared.

“Want me to pounce ‘im for ya?” asked Admetus in a whisper.

“No thanks,” muttered Bomba, “I can manage that myself.”

 “I HEARD THAT!”

“What?  Heard what?”

“ _That_ -OOOF!”

* * * * *

“So...” Cassandra stretched herself out on the grass and stared lazily into the sky.  “What does a Muse look like anyway?”

The group was making one of its numerous rest-stops, a consequence of having Bustopher Jones as part of their search party.

“Well, I must say I’ve never come across one before in my life!” panted Bustopher. 

“Ah well, you can’t eat it then!” concluded Alonzo.

“Very funny,” said Exotica, not laughing.

“Oh - I say!” exclaimed the rotund tuxedo cat, still puffing slightly,  “that’s a little harsh, old fellow!”  He nodded round at them all, pressing the point.  “Just cos a chap’s not eaten something doesn’t mean that it can’t be eaten!  Why, I must admit I rather fancy a - what was it?  a... Muse?  I’d say it sounds rather appetising.”

“Er, yeah... sure... um, old bean...” said Alonzo, a little bemused.

“So, we don’t actually know what we’re looking for, is that it?” asked Exotica.  “Does anyone actually know what a Muse is?”

“Well...” said Alonzo, “I always thought they were Greek goddesses of the arts or something, y’know... beautiful, shapely women-”

“Well you _would_ think that, wouldn’t you?” cut in Cassandra, standing.  Then she smiled and sidled up to him.  “And if that’s the case, then I think you’ve found one right here...”

Not to be left out, Exotica smiled and approached the black and white tom from the other side.  “Or maybe right _here..._ ”

Bustopher Jones, meanwhile, shrugged and left to catch up on the gossip and the left overs from the Ritz.

“Ladies... Ladies...” grinned Alonzo, pushing them away gently and pretending to be embarrassed. Then he started to laugh. 

“What?”

“Oh dear... if this how you two ‘grown up’ queens act, then I dread to think what’s happening to Tugger, spending the whole afternoon with his fanclub!”

Cassandra turned and regarded him straightly.  “No you don’t.”

Alonzo laughed again. “No, you’re right, I don’t dread to think at all.  I just wish I was there to see it!”

* * * * *

“Which way now, Rum Tum Tum Tummy?” chirped Etcetera for the thousandth time.

Tugger shuddered involuntarily and kept walking.

“Tumsy!” cooed Jemima, “Rum Tum Tuuuuumsy...” she waved a paw in front of his face, “Anybody hooome?”

_Gah!!!_ He stopped.“Listen- babes,” he said as calmly as he could, “would it be OK if you’d just call me _Tugger_?”

“Aww...” pouted Etcetera, looping her arm around his shoulders and gazing lovingly into his face, “But we like these other names!”

“Yeah!” chimed in Victoria, “They’re so cute!”

“Just like yoooouu!” they all cried in high pitched chorus.

“Well...” Put like that, Tugger found the reasoning hard to resist...

“...Tuggerkins!” 

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!_

* * * * *

“Skimbleshanks, the raaaaaailway cat!  The cat of the raailway traaaaaaaaaaaaain!”

Skimbleshanks had previously thought his theme song impossible to dislike, but that had been before he had heard the duet of Carbucketty and Tumblebrutus give their ear-splitting interpretation of it.

“Do they... ever shut up?” Asparagus, walking behind, asked Jellylorum weakly.  She, however, could not hear him as she marched on stoicly with both her paws firmly over her ears.

“Och, lads, will ye jus’ be quiet fer a wee minute?” pleaded Skimble.

The singing stopped abruptly.  “What was that, Sir?” asked Carbucketty, in a very loud polite voice, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you properly.” 

“I think he said he liked our singing, Car.”

“Oh, OK.”

“THERE’S .... A... whisperdownthelineateleventhirtyninewhenthenightmail’sreadytodepart!  Saying...”

Skimbleshanks blocked his ears, awaiting the inevitable...

“SKIMBLE, WHERE IS SKIMBLE????!”  The tom kittens yelled, one jumping on each of Skimbleshank’s shoulders.

“Hashegonetohuntthethimblewemustfindhimorthetraincan’tstaaaaAAAAArrtt! Skimbleshanks, the raaaaaailway cat!  The cat of the raailway traaaaaaaaaaaaain!” they... uttered, in a style that could only flatteringly be called recititive.

And then it began again... “THERE’S .... A... whisperdownthelineateleventhirtyninewhenthenightmail’sreadytodepart!  Saying...”

Jelly winced even with her blocked ears.  “Do they only know one verse?” she wondered.

Finally, Skimble had had enough.

“OCH AYE THE NOO!” he yelled,  “CANNAE YE QUIT THA’ TERRIBLE RACKET!!  SING SOMETHING DIFFERENT FER PITY’S SAIKES!”

“Sorry, Sir...” they mumbled.  “Alright, we’ll sing something different.”

Skimbleshanks was regretting that suggestion even as they drew breath to sing....

“MEM’REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!  ALL ALONE IN THE MOONLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" 

* * * * *

“We’re the responsible kittens!” proclaimed George proudly.

“Yeah!” affirmed his companions: Quaxo, Victor and Plato.

“We were allowed to go in a group without any boring grown ups!”

“Yeah!”

‘They _trusted_ us to look for that Muse all by ourselves!”

“YEAH!”

They all cheered happily, and went back to playing Tag.

“GOTCHA!!!” yelled Victor, hurtling towards Quaxo.  “You’re I-”

But before he could touch him, the small black cat had disappeared and reappeared several yards away.

“Hey!  No fair!  He used magic!  He’s cheating!!” wailed Victor from where he had fallen splat on the ground.

“Yup, I’m afraid you were cheating, Quax,” said Plato sternly.  “Therefore you are It by default.  Got to uphold the rules, eh George?”

“Sure do.  After all, we’re being trusted to be fair and responsible.”

They all nodded, very pleased with themselves.

Then Quaxo said hesitantly, “You don’t suppose we should actually _look_ for the Muse, do you?”

“What?  Nah!”

“But what if someone asks?”

“Well, my dear Quaxo,” George informed him confidentially, “We say we looked.  We _did_ look, didn’t we?”

“Ah yes...!” breathed Quaxo, catching on.  “We looked reeally hard!  We spent _all day_ searching!  But-” he shook his head sadly, “we just didn’t find it.”

“No...”

“It’s very sad... But... life goes on." 

There was a solemn pause.

Victor broke it. “You’re still It, by the way, Quax.”

“Drat, I thought you’d forgotten.”

* * * * *

“Bombalurina, I can just _sense_ you preparing to spring,” said Munkustrap archly, refusing to look up from the map. 

There was a sudden giggle, and to his great surprise, _Rumpelteazer_ jumped on him from behind and knocked him to the ground.

“OW!  Gettoff me... er... Teazer.” 

“Not if you don’ saiy ‘please’,” said Rumpelteazer happily, patting Munkustrap’s head and looking very comfortable perched on top of the rather flat cat.

“OK... _please_ gettoff me _._ ”

Teazer didn’t move. “Well, see, Oi dunno ‘bout tha’. Oi mean, you ‘ave gone an’ wandered into _our_ territory an’ all.  Oi think Oi’m quoite within my rights t’detain you right ‘ere for the present toime.”

‘What, by sitting on me?" 

“Yup, don’ see whoi not.”

“And what do you mean, your territory?” he squirmed so he could point to the map.  “We aren’t anywhere near Victoria Grove!”

“On the contary, moy dear fellow,” came a second cockney voice.  Munkustrap had to presume that it was Mungojerrie who was now poking him none to gently as Teazer’s pressure on his head and become more forceful, rendering him completely immobile.  “You ‘ave in fac’ wandered roight into our backyard,” continued Mungo.

“No I have not!” shouted an outraged Munkustrap as he wriggled furiously.  “Look, we’re right _here_ on the map, and Victoria Grove’s way over _there_!" 

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer examined the map.  “Sorry, luv,” said Teazer condescendingly, “Map’s upsoide down.  Easy mistake t’maike, ducky, don’ worry ‘bout it.”

Bombalurina and Admetus were making no attempt to hide their mirth at the grey tabby’s expense, and even Demeter was unable to stifle a rather loud gaffaw.

“Hey!!  You guys should be _helping_ me, not watching me suffer!!”

“Er...” said Bomba, “Why?” 

* * * * *

SOME TIME LATER...

“Well, there’s this ‘ere thing...” said Rumpelteazer, tossing the object out of her sack.  “It does say “JestaAriadne’s Muse” on it...”

Munkustrap examined it closely.  “Wait a minute! How do you know what it says?” 

“The fact that Oi’m a thief don’t mean I can’t read!!”“Yeah, but the fact that you’re a cat does!”

“Well, how comes _you_ can read then?” 

“Well- I, well, I always considered myself- rather special!”

“News te you, yer not!” Mungojerrie announced gleefully.  “We can all read, otherwoise ‘ow would Macavi’y read all ‘em Jane Austen books ‘e loikes?” 

There was a pause. Rumpelteazer jabbed Mungojerrie sharply in the ribs.  “ _You weren’t s’posed ter say tha’!_ ” she hissed.

“Macavity reads Jane Austen??” Munkustrap asked incredulously.  “And how on earth do you know _that_?”

“Er...” said Mungojerrie, “can we say: no comment?”

Munkustrap sighed. “Yeah, on second thoughts, the less I know about Macavity’s private life the better.  Come on.  We’d better get this back to the girl… before things get even worse around here.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2002 (and 2008) and posted to ao3 for safekeeping in 2018,
> 
> _I did warn you it was silly._


End file.
